Nights Like These
by realgeniusette4
Summary: Vash enjoys his time spent at one of the finest restaurants in town, mainly because of Roderich. Short fluffy SwissAus one-shot.


_**Alright first fanfic! **__**First of all, I don't own absolutely anything here. Second of all, enjoy the short story!**_

**Nights Like These  
**  
I enjoy nights like these. I can calmly reside in my own thoughts without being disturbed, but I can also enjoy the tasteful food being served to me at the best restaurant in town, the Borchardt. The air of the place felt proper, yet almost homey at the same time. I glanced around at the place as I sipped on my ice cold Miller Lite. There was always an interesting amount of social diversity of the customers here, ranging from chatty common folk to the composed upper class. It always made me feel at ease, yet the best part of the restaurant had nothing to do with the food, the people, nor the layout of the area, but with the music. The restaurant hired a part-time pianist that came every night around five p.m. for about an hour to fill the place with beautiful music. My gaze wandered to the pianist as he began to play the next song. His eyes closed, a sign of complete concentration, and began to nod his head in perfect time to the song's tempo. I could always count on the pianist's skill and talent to perform a song that always spoke to me in an unusual way, completely relieving any stress I might have compiled before. Guess music does work wonders. I recognized the song as Moonlight Sonata and almost jumped out of my seat as the waiter arrived to deliver my meal.

"Your Sauerbraten_,_ sir."

"Yeah thanks," I immediately responded, still shocked out of my focus of the pianist.

I briefly wolfed down the meal, and reverted back to listening to the masterpiece being performed. Whether it was the way he played or simply his features, I felt fascinated by his presence. It was stupid; I didn't even know the guy! My eyes seemed to always wander around, then become transfixed on his image. Not fault if my eyes paid extra attention to him anyway. Unfortunately, the piece ended soon and the pianist bowed then retreated to a seat at the bar. I should talk to him. Maybe I should buy him something? It would be the least I could do for him. I mean, I come here all the time but have done absolutely nothing. Still, this restaurant isn't exactly cheap either…My mind seemed to continue to battle with itself, determined to decide whether to act._ Well you're about to leave anyway. Might as well walk over there…_ The pianist-sided part of my mind won of course, so I walked over to where he sat. Taking a seat, I noticed a few things about him. The way he held himself as if he was the most proper person here, the way his hair curled up near the top to defy gravity, the way his eyes looked absolutely gorgeous up close, the–

"Do you want something?"

"Uh, yes actually. I've been listening to your performances for the past week whenever I come grab a bite to eat, and I wanted to thank you in a way I guess. You don't mind if I buy you drink do you?" I'm surprised that came out as well as it did, honestly I was caught off guard. Not my fault.

"Do I look like the kind of person who needs to be given a free beer? I have plenty of money, thank you," he snapped back. Jeez. Not the friendly type I suppose. Can't back down now though.

"It was a genuine offer of gratitude, so take it. Now what do you want or I'll get you a coke for all I care." I didn't _try _to be rude, but hey, if he was going to be rude then I'm not going to be exactly kind-hearted now. I'm already buying him something…I'm not made of money after all.

"Fine. I'll take a Coors Light," he replied. Finally gave in I suppose.

After I ordered his drink we sat in silence for what seemed to be forever. I had to break the silence, if not he would most likely make a rude statement of how I was glaring at him, which I definitely wasn't. Nope.

"How long have you played the piano?" Alright asked something that wasn't awkward… good for me.

"Ever since I was five, I think. Even when I was a toddler, I was mildly fascinated by banging my chubby nub-like fingers on the keys. In the long haul it paid off, because I eventually got pretty good."

"Hey, I just asked you how long you've been playing, not every little detail about how you got into piano." I stifled a laugh. Pretty sure that means I'm ahead on snide remarks now.

"Well since you cared enough to listen to my music, you should care enough to listen to _me_ anyways," he remarked. Well I guess he beat me there, no use in denying that.

The conversation was put to an almost complete stop after that, until the bill came. After I had paid, he requested to see the check. "You know, I haven't even gotten your name," he stated.

"Well it's Vash. So what would your name be then?"

"Roderich," was all he responded. I saw him lightly scribble something on the bill, then put it back to its place. It had already been paid for… don't really understand what that was for.

"I'll be leaving then. Thanks for the drink, _Vash_." He put extra emphasis on my name.

"Well I'm simply _honored_ to have graced your lips with the beer that _I _had paid for." I smirked realizing the amount of sass I had retaliated with. I watched him strut away as I turned back to the bill. Didn't he write something? Pretty sure he did…okay he did. Right there–in I swear the fanciest handwriting I've seen a guy write in– was presumably he phone number. Why would he even want to talk to me though? We had both been pretty unbearable most of the conversation. Must not have a lot of friends, I guess. Oh well. I knew what I would be doing when I got home, and that _certainly _didn't have anything to do with Roderich…

I did know one thing for sure though. It was that I definitely enjoy nights like these.

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